The UnMiserablian Epilogue of Les Miserables
by EntirelyInsane
Summary: Cosette and Marius are the only characters who lived...or are they? Happy Miserblian Memorial!
1. Chapter 1

**Happy La Miserablia Memorial!!! Here's my contribution to our sacred holiday...I'm sure you'll find it...**_**interesting...**_***evil laughter* **

**As far as the story goes...friendships are slightly sometimes more musical based, like Marius and Les Amis. It helps with the whole companionable stuff...**

**DISCLAIMER: I...DO own the characters, since they're my imaginary friends!! Ha! *whips out verification card and tugs over Javert* See, I even have an officer of the Lawr to prove it!**

~2460124601246012460124601246012460124601246012460124601246012460124601~

**The Un-Miserablian Epilogue of Les Misérables**

Il dort. Quoique le sort fut pour lui bien etrange,  
Il vivait. Il mourut quand il n'eut plus son ange.  
La chose simplement d'elle-meme arriva,  
Comme la nuit se fait lorsque le jour s'en va.

The lights shut off. The wailing violins stopped playing, and, for a moment, the world was lost in silence and shadow. Then, suddenly, the lights flooded back on. They found Marius and Cosette, seated on settee a comfortable-looking sitting room. They seemed somewhat sad.

"Perhaps we ought to go to Father's grave today," Cosette was saying. "We haven't been there for some time."

"Nor have we been to Enjolras'," Marius added quietly. "Nor Courfeyrac's, or Combeferre's, or Jean Prouvaire's, or Feuilly's, or - "

"Father!"

Marius abruptly raised his eyes to Cosette. Her blue eyes were widened in absolute surprise; her pretty little mouth formed an "O". One of her slim, white hands was raised to point at the doorway. The other hand rested upon her heart. She was staring at the doorway, motionless. Almost afraid to look, Marius followed her gaze.

And gasped.

Jean Valjean stood before them.

His beautiful white locks seemed to make a glowing halo around his head; he wore no cap. He was dressed in black trousers, a white shirt, grey vest, and black cravat and coat, looking simple but respectable. But best of all was his smile. Pure happiness radiated from his venerable old face, which really did not seem all that old any longer. Indeed, he looked ten years younger as he gazed upon Cosette and Marius in joy.

"Father! oh, my Father!" Cosette cried again, and, leaping off the settee, she fairly flew at him and threw her arms around his neck, kissing his face. "Oh, my Father! you are alive, Father!"

"Yes, Cosette, my child." Jean Valjean hugged Cosette's little frame very tightly, as if he had missed doing so. Then he eyed Marius, who hovered in the background uncertainly. "Monsieur Pontmercy!" exclaimed Jean Valjean, and he held out his hand.

Marius took it gratefully, wiping away sudden tears.

Finally, Cosette let go, and, taking his hand, she tugged Jean Valjean over to the settee. "Sit, Father," she instructed. He obeyed, and she and Marius sat on either side of him. "Now, tell me," Cosette continued, "how it comes to be that you are here. We all thought you had died! – we buried you!"

"I was dead," confirmed Jean Valjean.

"…Well?" Cosette's delicate brow furrowed in concern.

"I am alive," he said simply.

He spoke in a way that told Cosette and Marius not to question any more. So Cosette replied, "And I am glad," and, stroking his hair aside, she kissed his cheek, quite sweetly. Then, holding his hand, she and Marius continued to talk to him.

"I never really got to thank you," began Marius, somewhat tremulously, "for all you did. How you rescued me! - monsieur, you saved my life! - and how you really were not actually - "

"But you did thank me," interrupted the old man softly. "Before I died. You put my heart at rest. I can assure you that I died most peacefully." Here he looked back and forth between the two eager faces.

Marius smiled, and took his other hand. Continuing, he added, "And how you really were Monsieur Madeline the Mayor; you really did all that good! and that was amazing in itself, and honorable, but then you came to the barricades and saved us all! And you did not really kill that inspector; I forget his name - Javert, was it not? – no, you really saved him! You saved his life, also, in addition to mine!"

"And you never were thanked properly for it," came a voice from the doorway.


	2. Chapter 2

Everyone turned their heads to the doorway in shock. Jean Valjean's grip tightened on Cosette's little paw.

It was Javert.

He, too, seemed somewhat younger. He held his hat in his hands respectively, and although he was still dressed in his full inspector suit and greatcoat, there was no sign of his infamous nightstick or handcuffs. His steel eyes were directed towards Jean Valjean.

Slowly, detangling himself from Cosette and Marius' nervously gripping hands, Jean Valjean stood and walked towards the inspector, taking carefully measured steps. He stopped when they were about two feet apart.

The two men stood motionless for a moment, gazing at each other in silence. Then, almost too quietly to hear, Javert said, "Thank you, monsieur. I thank you greatly...for everything."

Jean Valjean simply smiled and nodded. Then, wordlessly, he held out his hand.

Javert gripped it, looking down carefully, not seeming to trust himself to speak. Then, simultaneously, Jean Valjean put an arm around Javert's shoulders, and Javert put an arm around Jean Valjean in a grateful, forgiving embrace.

When they let go, everyone had tears in their eyes. Self-consciously, Javert mumbled, "Well..."

Jean Valjean laid a hand on the inspector's arm. "Would you like to come sit with us?" he asked gently.

"Oh, yes!" piped up Cosette from the settee. "There is plenty of room, monsieur; please do join us!"

Javert raised his eyes to meet those of Jean Valjean. "Yes," he replied. "I would like that very much."

So the four companions all settled back down on the settee. Jean Valjean was between Cosette and Javert, and Marius was beside Cosette. The latter, of course, did not actually know Javert, so it was necessary to introduce them.

"Cosette, this is Inspector Javert; Javert, this is my child, Cosette," Jean Valjean supplied.

"Fantine's daughter," Javert said in an undertone, looking to Jean Valjean for confirmation. He nodded. Then, to Cosette, the inspector said shamelessly, "And, mademoiselle, I am the man who more or less made life miserable for your...father. So you may hate me if you wish. You do have good reason to."

Cosette looked slightly appalled.

"You didn't make my life _miserable_," Jean Valjean argued demurely, the kind soul that he was. "You just...hindered it greatly."

"Yes." Affectionate and forgiving, Cosette's nature prevented her from hating anybody. "You are here, you are now nice to my father; he is nice to you. I shall be, too." She took Javert's large hand in her own and gave him a friendly smile. He hesitated for a moment, then gave a small smile in return.

Suddenly, there came the sound of raised voices in the hallway outside, tripping over one another in a jumble. As they neared, they were accompanied by bangs and thumps which announced the arrival of several people.

Marius sat up straight on the settee, his face pale. The voices seemed to sound like...no, it couldn't be...but they really did sound nearly exactly like –

A group of young men burst through the doorway.


	3. Chapter 3

Marius stood abruptly, seeming to sway on the spot, staring in utter disbelief and shock at the new arrivals. Then, with a cry of "Enjolras!" he bounded towards the handsome, fair-haired young man in the front of the group.

Enjolras spun around just in time to have his arms pinned to his sides in a bear hug from Marius. "Wha-" he spluttered. "Wait! Who?...you, Marius?" With a struggle, he freed himself from the other man's death grip. "Marius! It _is _you!" The revolutionary leader, most uncharacteristically, placed a hand on each of his old friend's shoulders.

Marius managed, with some difficulty, to keep the tears from falling. "Yes," he said, in a voice that shook with emotion. He gripped Enjolras's arms, as if to convince himself that his friend was real, and not some apparition. "Yes," he said again, "it is me. And it is you!" Suddenly feverish, Marius let go of Enjolras and caught the hands of Courfeyrac. "Courfeyrac! my old friend! You, too, are back, then! Oh! mon dieu!"

Marius went from one insurgent to the next, grasping arms, hands, and shoulders, trembling with emotion. "Combeferre? How wonderful it is to see you! Joly, you also! Jean Prouvaire! you are alive! Oh, Feuilly, my friend, and Bossuet, too! How flies the eagle now? And, of course, Bahorel, dear comrade, and...Grantaire?"

All eyes turned to the man in front of Marius. He was somewhat less than handsome, but Marius nevertheless seemed to be amazed at something. "Grantaire! Are you..._sober_?"

All of the students tittered. Grantaire looked around him, then, facing Marius, he exclaimed, "Of course! As sober as the day I was born!"

Everyone burst out laughing. Marius joyfully took Grantaire's hand and shook it, upon which Grantaire, also chuckling, leaned towards Marius and said confidentially, "I have discovered _carbonated grape juice_. It is most delicious. A wonderful alternative."

Marius only laughed harder at this confidence.

Suddenly, though, Enjolras' frank eye caught sight of Javert, still on the couch, watching the happy reunion in silence. "You," he said, his tone and expression betraying neither accusation nor welcome. Javert nodded, returning the fiery gaze with his own steel one.

"The spy, Javert..." Enjolras murmured. His quiet voice could somehow be heard amongst all the loud shouts. Gradually, everyone quieted. The atmosphere was tense, fragile, easily broken.

Finally, Enjolras said, a little less than politely, "How did you die, then?" His eyes flickered over to Jean Valjean, then settled once again on Javert. "I know now that he didn't kill you, so what did happen?"

Javert opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He took a deep breath, suddenly looking very vulnerable. Very briefly, he glanced at Jean Valjean. Understanding, the kind old man said "Monsieur l'Inspector...drowned."

"Drowned?" The revolutionary leaded looked skeptical.

Jean Valjean nodded, his expression unreadable.

Swaggering up beside Enjolras, Grantaire crossed his arms and leaned to one side. "Drowned, eh? How'd you manage that, _Monsieur l'Inspector_?" He said these last words almost tauntingly. Javert looked up again, steel eyes flashing. Grantaire instinctively took a step backwards.

Holding his head with a defiant pride, Javert spoke: "I drowned by jumping into the Seine." Jean Prouvaire's sensitive features turned aghast, his brown eyes wide and disbelieving.

"Yes," continued Javert, his smoldering gaze flickering from Enjolras to Grantaire and the others, then back again. "I drowned myself. I _killed _myself."

Cosette, frightened by the intensity in this man's voice, slipped her hand into her father's. Marius, who was still standing in between Feuilly and Bahorel amongst all the revolutionaries, backed away until he was against the wall, not wishing to be a part of the conversation. But Enjolras remained unmoved. "Why?" he demanded.

Something of the wounded lion flared up once more in Javert's features. All the same, he paused a moment, as if to master himself. "Because...my life no longer had any purpose. It had been...wasted..." Curiously, the inspector's voice seemed to tremble just the slightest touch at on his last word, and he looked down. Everyone was silent.

Javert stared down at his hands. "I was lost," he concluded flatly.

Still, no one moved. Joly coughed quietly, then immediately clapped a hand to his forehead in a panic to check for fever. Enjolras turned around at the sound, somewhat startled, then looked back at Javert, Jean Valjean, and Cosette on the couch. His face remained expressionless, although something in his eyes seemed to have softened. He seemed to consider the three for a moment, then, rather more quietly than he normally spoke, he said, "Well, I suppose that is behind us. Monsieur trusts you; he sits by you" – he indicated Jean Valjean, who nodded slightly – "so I shall respect you also." Still, Javert did not raise his head, though his hands made an imperceptible movement.

Enjolras strode across the room and stopped in front the inspector. "Come, monsieur; let us meet without having to tie you up." He held out his hand.

Finally, Javert looked up and saw the handsome young man before him. The faintest trace of a smile seemed to light his face, and he gripped Enjolras' hand. Everyone relaxed.

Leaning over to Courfeyrac, Joly asked nervously, "Do I look sick to you?"


	4. A Miserablian Message

**LA MISERABLIAN MEMORIAL HAS ARRIVED! **

Happy Barricade Day, mes amis!

The Miserablian Pledge:

_At the end of the day, I dreamed a dream that whenever I was on my own in my life, I would hear the people sing with a __heart full of love__ under the stars. __Les Miserables__, I pledge allegiance to thee. _

Take a moment to pledge to the cause of tomorrow and remember those who died.

May **tomorrow come** to all those who believe for **one day more**.

_Will you join in our crusade?_  
_Who will be strong and stand with me?_  
_Somewhere beyond the barricade_  
_Is there a world you long to see?_  
_Do you hear the people sing?_  
_Say, do you hear the __distant drums__?_  
_It is the future that they bring_  
_When tomorrow comes!_  
_...Tomorrow comes!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Yes! A year later, I know, and I hang my head in shame for it, but yes! I have indeed returned to update this story! **

**I was actually **_**hoping **_**to get that done in time for Barricade Day, but nooooo, life had other plans. *crosses arms and pouts* But here 'tis now. I hopes you likes! Drop me a review so I know you're all still out there, won't ya? **

**/\/\/\/\/\/\**

Javert let go of Enjolras and, after a nod towards him, turned his gaze toward the rest of Les Amis de l'ABC, who were still clustered at the door. "Messieurs," he said, "you must come sit down here. There is plenty of room; find yourselves a seat." He gestured for them to make themselves comfortable. Relieved, they moved towards the settee and surrounding chairs.

Amongst all the chatter, however, there was suddenly the slight pitter-patter of footsteps, drawing near. A moment later, a ragged, barefooted little gamin burst into their midst, panting.

"Sorry I'm late!" cried Gavroche. "But, y'know, I did die b'fore all you, so I 'ad to come later."

Marius, beaming, crossed the room and knelt so he was eye level with the boy. Putting a hand on each of the thin shoulders, he murmured, "Gavroche?"

"Yeah, 's me! I'm 'ere, all righ'!" Gavroche gave a large, crooked grin, and jauntily touched his cap and bowed, scraping his foot behind him. Then, looking at the rest of the faces in the room, he exclaimed, "Citizens! I'm back!"

Everyone smiled, even Javert. Feuilly rose from his armchair and joined Marius and Gavroche, who smiled up at him brightly.

Presently, however, Gavroche, scanning the room and finding someone missing, began to frown. Scratching his head and biting his lip, he muttered, "Well, where is she? I thought she'd be 'ere..."

Marius paused for a moment, then asked, "Who?"

"My sister."

"Yes, I understand that. What was – is...her name?"

Gavroche cocked his head to one side and raised an eyebrow. "I don' think you'd know 'er," he said slowly. "'Ponine."

"Oh..."Marius quickly took a breath, then said, "Well...as a matter of fact, I did. She...I met her a few times...your family lived next to me for a time..."

"Really?"

Marius nodded. He did not add that the gamin's sister had died in his arms.

"Well, I wonder where she's gone to..." Then Gavroche caught sight of Javert. "Hallo! The spy!" he exclaimed, and bounded up to the inspector and darted around, just out of reach, laughing tauntingly. Suddenly, though, with one swift movement, Javert leapt off the settee, caught Gavroche by his ragged shirt, and drew him close. The gamin's eyes were wide, but he did not dare to make a sound.

Javert studied the boy for a long moment. Then, very quietly, he said, "The mouse did catch the cat." He paused. "But now the cat has caught the mouse."

Gavroche did not move. Only, he may have swallowed.

Then, with a final meaningful look, Javert let go of Gavroche and sat down again, looking as composed as ever. The gamin backed away slowly, scratching the back of his neck and giving the man before him an apprehensive look. As soon as he was ten paces away, he turned around and raced back to Marius and Feuilly, who ruffled his hair in silence, though his eyes were still trained on the inspector. Javert, however, seemed to pretend that the previous event had never occurred, and everyone gradually resumed their cheerful attitudes.

"I know!" Bossuet leapt up from his seat across near the fireplace and promptly knocked a book into the flames. Cosette gasped as the fire blazed up and swallowed the book immediately, while the young man looked on ruefully. "Oh, Madame, forgive me," he said dejectedly, "but I seem to bring the luck of the Devil with me wherever I go."

"It is nothing!" Cosette said hurriedly, approaching Bossuet and sweetly laying a slim hand on his shoulder as he continued to apologize profusely. "It was a mistake, monsieur, and besides!" she added, "I did not like that story very much anyway!"

Everyone laughed.

"Eagle, you were saying?" Marius prompted, joining him and Cosette near the fireplace. "Before you upset that book?"

"Ah, yes." Bossuet gave another apologetic smile, then continued, "I was just thinking…we should all play cards!"

"Sounds fine to me," agreed Grantaire, though he still cast a fleeting, almost imperceptible glance at Javert. "All together, then?"

And, to everyone's mild but pleasant surprise, Javert nodded and began to shuffle the deck of cards Cosette presented to him, dealing with a smooth dexterity until everyone had a neat pile of cards at their fingertips.

"Excellent," Courfeyrac muttered, settling down between Marius and Gavroche while thumbing through his hand. "This is really excellent. What say you, Marius?"

"Oh – well," Marius responded falteringly, and Courfeyrac laughed at the slightly put-out expression on his companion's face. Clearly, Marius's hand was not a good one.

Gavroche, to further the matter, made this very well known by taking it upon himself to sneak a glance at Marius's cards past his elbow, grin crookedly, and proclaim, "_Mon dieu! _All spades, do I see? Tha's gonna be 'ard to play, m'sieur."

Courfeyrac attempted and failed to stifle his sniggers with his own (much better) cards until Marius rounded on him with an expression of mock frustration and ineffectually told him to shut up.

"All right!" Enjolras said loudly, over the growing chuckles from Marius's corner of the table, and laid down his first card.

**/\/\/\/\/\/\**

**Yes, I **_**know **_**a standard deck of cards is probably far too small to suit the needs of nine revolutionaries, a married couple, an inspector, a gamin, and a Valjean, I rest my case and say that in Miserablia, they make their card decks a lot bigger. Or something. **


	6. Chapter 6

I just want to extend an amazing amount of thanks to hollybridgetpeppermint (who I'd also like to thank for her in-depth analysis of what might happen when Eponine comes…hopefully, hbp, you're pleased with my take!), insanemistosingsmore, and LifeXBeyondXtheXMountains for reviewing the last chapter, as well as all of you who read it, because I've been such a bad, bad person and not updated for so long. It's wonderful to know that all you lovely nice people are still out there. =T_T=

Enjoy the next chapter!

**/\/\/*\/\/\**

They were still playing cards half an hour later, all of them laughing by then and feeling more comfortable than they had in a long time. No one really understood quite how it was happening, but everyone was getting along with everyone else. Gavroche kept prancing around, sneaking glances at everyone else's cards, but nobody snapped at him. When Valjean directly countered Javert, everyone held their breath, but Javert merely gave a crooked smile in acceptance and continued without a negative remark. And although Grantaire was acting just as tipsy as was characteristic, Enjolras had no reprimand for him, and remained at his side throughout the game without switching seats.

Everyone wondered, absently, what had come over them, and whether or not there was some sedative in the coffee Valjean had served them (which everyone drank gratefully save for Gavroche, who took one large gulp to prove his worth than proceeded to surreptitiously dump the remainder of the cup's contents into the potted plant behind the settee, still trying to swallow the bitter stuff without grimacing too much). But no one questioned this strange atmosphere of peacefulness and camaraderie, because everyone was enjoying it more than they dared to admit.

It was in such a setting that Eponine found them.

The sight was so strange to her eyes, which had gotten so used to violence, that she lingered in the doorway of the room for much longer than necessary, eyebrows cocked slightly in skeptical surprise. The fire crackled pleasantly from the hearth along to her left, and the favorable scent of coffee pervaded the air. No one seemed to notice her; they were too absorbed in their current game of cards. Eponine couldn't help but smirk as she saw her own brother peeking over Marius's shoulder for the umpteenth time.

_Marius. Monsieur Marius. _

Eponine's stomach flopped automatically, and she felt herself gripping the doorframe tighter, her mouth drying. Looking at Marius's handsome face, his dark hair, his earnest brow, brought everything back. Her hand moved to cover the spot in her chest where the bullet had buried itself. It was no longer there, but she still felt a pain where it used to be.

Or perhaps that was just heartache.

She stood in this position for quite a bit longer, numbly watching the card game progress before her until the bald young man won (much to everyone's surprise, as they kept clapping him on the back with cries of "Looks like Eagle's caught some luck, after all!" and the like). Then another man, a rather short one with spectacles and auburn hair, chanced to glance at the doorway, perhaps sensing someone there, and perceived Eponine.

She gazed back, torn between satisfaction that someone had noticed her and anxiety at entering the room and facing everyone…facing Marius.

The man turned after a moment to lay a hand on a blonde man's arm to his left who was clad in a red vest. Enjolras, she recalled his name from the barricades. He knew Marius, didn't he?

Enjolras inclined his head slightly to hear what the smaller man was murmuring, then looked up to see her standing there, watching him. His blue eyes lit up after a moment in recognition, and he wasted no time in turning to Marius to point her out to him.

_No! _she screamed at the revolutionary in her head, and yet she knew that there was nothing else that could happen. She would have to face Marius, and sooner was always better than later. So she steeled herself as well as she could, telling her not to care, that it no longer mattered. Still, though, she smoothed the front of her tattered skirt, almost without realizing she was doing it.

Then Marius raised his eyes and their gazes locked.

Her breath hitched for the slightest moment; her heart skipped a beat and then continued to thump with an unnatural speed and heaviness. Nonetheless, she forced herself to walk forward and enter the room.

The first thing she noticed (other than the way Marius's eyes seemed to be full of compassion and sympathy for _her_) was the thin band on his hand. A wedding ring. She allowed her gaze to shift ever-so-slightly to the left of Marius's hand, whereCosette's slender white paw lay. Just as she had suspected, there was a ring sparkling on her delicate little finger, also. They had been married.

It was to be expected, she reasoned, all the while drawing near Marius, who was slowly getting up from his chair to meet her. The two loved each other; that much was as clear as anything. Had Marius not asked her to find the young lady's address? Had he not carried Cosette's letters in his breast pocket, against his heart? Had she, Eponine, not used her dying moments to hand Marius a letter from his beloved?

Yes, she thought as Marius stopped a few feet from her, surveying her with a candid, somewhat concerned eye, it was only right that they should be married. So when she stopped herself, directly in front of Marius, she had no difficulty at all in simply saying, "Thank you, Monsieur Marius."

He began to speak, then closed his mouth for a moment and paused before resuming, "Eponine, what for?"

Choosing her words wisely, she murmured back. "You…gave me reason to be happy. I thank you for the joy you brought – bring – to my unhappy life." And she smiled.

He only stared at her for a moment; clearly, he had not been expecting quite this sort of conversation to occur. Then he replied, equally quietly, "You're welcome, Eponine. And thank you, for…for saving me from the bullet. And…bringing Cosette's note."

Bless him, she thought, he was hesitant to bring up Cosette. She laughed softly, covering her old (now healed) bullet wound with the hand that used to be punctured also, lowering her eyes for a moment before looking at Marius again. "Never mind," she said, wondering in the back of her mind where she was getting the will and grace to be so refined and gracious in this exchange. "Now, if you'll let me join your game…"

Marius looked blank for a moment, and Eponine almost laughed at his adorable state of confusion. Then, rather abruptly, he rejoined, "Of course! Monsieur Javert, would you deal out another hand for my friend Eponine?"

_My friend Eponine_.

The girl in question felt a peculiar warmth spread through her at these words, almost like the sensation she had felt when Marius had held her as she breathed her last. Only…somehow, it was better. Marius turned to her with a meaningful emotion in his eyes as he said it, and as she returned the look with all the gratitude and adoration she could muster. Dimly, she was aware of the man Marius had called Javert (she thought remembered him…wasn't he an inspector or something of the sort?…Yes! he was the one who came to their house that night they were all arrested. Funny, he seemed to be noticeably more amiable here, too, as everyone was…) gaze at her keenly for the shortest moment, then nod briefly and wordlessly deal out another hand for her.

Friends. It was all she could ever hope for. And she felt, as she settled down between two revolutionaries who introduced themselves as Feuilly and Bossuet (the bald fellow who had won earlier) and Javert pushed her cards across the table for her with what might have been the faintest trace of a smile, that it quite good enough.


End file.
